


A Dance of Roses

by FallenStar22



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Complete, Gen, HP: Epilogue Compliant, Harry Potter Next Generation, Platonic Female/Male Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-20 09:31:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenStar22/pseuds/FallenStar22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose Weasley hates balls. So the 30th Annual Memorial Ball is not her cup of tea especially when her mother insists she dance with everyone who asks. She has no intentions to dance with anyone after escaping her last partner but she's a catch and comes up with a plan to dissuade any more suitors should they ask.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dance of Roses

Balls, Rose Weasley had decided, were the biggest time wasters and enduringly boring. On rounds with her parents, old Ministry officials would come up to her every year, pinch her cheeks and exclaim how much she’d grown since she was six, or how much like her mother she looked, or how successful she had been to get a Healing Apprenticeship. This year, there had been an addition: “how pretty she looks now that she has grown into her figure, the marriage proposals will come rolling in!” To Rose’s horror, the very thing had actually happened; her father went very green in the face before her mother calmly stepped in and explained firmly that Rose was much too young to have a husband and that she was going to focus on her career, much to the chagrin of the traditional-minded mothers. Rose took back any mean thing she had said to her mother over her lifetime, the woman was a lifesaver.

 

Unfortunately, asking for a hand in marriage was not the same as asking for a hand to dance, and her mum had no qualms against letting any ‘lovely young man’ who asked to whisk her away to dance. Rose had no such intentions to dance at the Ministry’s 30th Annual Memorial Ball, but her mother had fixed her with such a glare that Rose knew there would be retributions if she didn’t.

 

So here she was, dancing with Natanail, Viktor Krum’s son, trying not to grimace at his stiff way of dancing. He was a nice enough partner but he was too young for her and she felt uncomfortable looking at his face for too long because of the red pimples that decorated his dark skin. According to her mother, Viktor had said he son was very keen to meet her and Rose could only hope that he wasn’t hoping for a continuation of his father’s romance with her mother. Thankfully, the waltz was coming to an end, and Rose paused early, hoping he would step back and disengage himself from her. He did exactly as she hoped, however, what Rose didn’t predict was another man asking for the next dance.

 

Cormac McLaggen was someone she most definitely did not want to dance with and was trying to think of a politer way to decline rather than just saying “no”, when Natanail beat her to it and gracefully bowed out of the way after reassuring Rose that it had been a pleasure. McLaggen seemed satisfied with Natanail’s actions for he beamed at Rose and took her into his arms without a second’s consideration to Rose’s wishes. His hand, too low to be acceptable, grazed her hip, and his face was so close she could smell beer on his breath.

 

Urgh, he was disgusting. What did the man think he was doing, he was almost thirty years older than her! Rose looked around for her mum and dad, trying to catch their attention so that they could come over and remove this creep from her sight, but they were wrapped up in each other’s embrace, oblivious to Rose and her distress. Rose continued searching for other family members to aid her: Uncle Harry was busy dancing with Professor McGonagall in the far side of the room; Teddy was snogging Victoire in the middle of the dance floor; Albus, James and Hugo were awkwardly standing at the side of the room like wallflowers- wait, they could dance with her couldn’t they?

 

Now that a plan had been formed, Rose tried to steer them towards Albus and co, a more difficult job than it seemed. McLaggen was determined to be old-fashioned and lead Rose, completely misinterpreting her intention to change direction and instead blaming it on her choice of shoes.

 

“Steady there Rose dear, anyone would think you wanted me to catch you!” He chuckled and gave her a saucy wink, using her slightly wobble as an excuse to place his hand flat on her lower back and draw her even closer.

 

The only quality of McLaggen’s that Rose did like was his voice, his loud carrying voice that was so cheesy it incited cringing expressions in a large rippling circle around him. Add to that a cousin who has nothing better to do than crowd watch and you have a half succeeded plan due to no action of your own.

 

Luckily, Albus finally caught her eye and after trying to subtly point at McLaggen with her eyes, he gave up trying to interpret his cousin’s crazy antics and decided to just go and talk to her instead.

 

Rose sighed in relief when she saw Albus weaving through the crowd towards her, she thought she was safe. McLaggen interrupted her relief by leaning forward to whisper in her ear, “You know Rosie, I am a little old for you, but when you bat your eyelashes it works better to open and close your eyes rather than look like a goldfish.” He pulled away and gave another conspiratorial wink.

 

Rose tried to not look like she wanted to throw up. Sweet Merlin, did this man really think she could be attracted to him?

 

“May I cut in?” asked a masculine voice to her right. “I haven’t danced with my lovely cousin yet this evening.”

 

_Oh Albus Potter I love you._

Rose happily let go of McLaggen and awkwardly stood by until he finished his compliments and left. Flinging her arms around Albus’ neck she sighed contently into his shoulder.

 

“Rose?” said Albus in a confused voice, “Care to tell me what’s going on?”

 

“You are my knight in shining armour, saving me from having to dance a second longer with that horrible man. I wish I could have punched him in the face.”

 

Albus gave a sigh and rubbed Rose’s shoulder. “You’re allowed to say no you know. Aunt Hermione’s never going to mind if you say no to a sleaze like him.”

 

“He didn’t even give me a chance to say no,” she grumbled, “He asked Natanail if he could dance with me as if I were a piece of property to be passed around.”

 

“Why didn’t you say you needed to go to the bathroom?” Albus asked, confused.

 

Rose lifted her head from her cousin’s shoulder in amazement of her stupidity. “And there I was hoping Mum or Dad would notice so they could come over here and kick his arse for acting inappropriately to their only daughter. They never liked him either.”

 

Albus harrumphed in agreement and rested his chin on her head. “Rose, if you hate it so much why don’t we just leave?”

 

“I tired that on Mum earlier but she said I had to come otherwise it’ll be rude. We’ve made a deal though, I get a first edition of The Witch’s Tale if I stay the whole night. It’s at home waiting for me now if I only I could leave.”

 

“Would hiding in the foyer count? I could grab Hugo and Lily and then we could play Exploding Snap or something?”

 

“What about James?” He was also one of the wallflowers Rose recalled.

 

“He keeps hanging around in here because he wants to dance with a blond girl called Mary or something. But for once, he’s too shy to ask and too intimidating for any girl to ask him so there’s no hope on that front.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Albus usually told her everything, even when they had left Hogwarts.

 

“About James?”

 

“Yeah, about this Mary girl. It’s not like James to get tongue-tied, he’s usually pretty good at getting any girl he likes.” There must be something different about this girl Rose had decided.

 

“What they see in that dollophead is beyond me,” said Albus shaking his head.

 

“Aw, just because you’re jealous he’s the firstborn and the literal reincarnation of your granddad. Don’t worry Albus, you’re just as dashing in your own special way.” She gave him a saccharine smile in response to his scowl.

 

“For that my dear cousin, I am going to leave you on the dance floor. Goodbye.” He smirked at her as he pulled away, Rose not fully believing that he would leave her to the mercy of her suitors until he had turned around completely.

 

“Wait,” she said clasping his wrist, “Albus please don’t leave.”

 

Albus has gone absolutely still as if someone had cast _Petrificus Totalus_ on him. “Albus?” He swiftly turned around and resumed dancing again, but awkwardly, as though someone had told him how to dance but this was the first time he was implementing it.

 

“Albus, what’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing,” he was sweating on his upper lip, this clearly wasn’t nothing. “Just carry on dancing and act like you haven’t seen her.”

 

“Seen who?” Rose peered past her cousin’s tall frame to figure out who he could possibly be talking about. She couldn’t see much other than people dancing but through a tiny gap she caught a glimpse of a glittering white dress that was cut away to reveal bronzed skin. A couple shifted slightly and more of the figure was revealed: dark, curly hair that fell past her shoulders. The mystery girl was talking to a tuxedo clad man who was standing not too far from Hugo, so Rose guessed that it may be James. Perhaps this was the Mary girl that Albus mentioned and he didn’t want to go over there and ruin it for him. That wouldn’t explain why Albus acted so strangely though. He’d already told Rose about this girl so it’s not like he needed to keep her a secret. The mystery girl turned around and started leading James towards the dance floor, and Rose could see it wasn’t the Mary girl after all because James didn’t look nervous and she looked remarkably like-

 

“Meghan,” greeted Albus, trying not to stutter at the sight of his crush.

 

“Albus,” she returned smiling. “Weasley.”

 

“Wood.” Replied Rose with the same thin lipped smile Meghan Wood had given her. Rose may have tolerated Albus, James and Lily being on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, but Rose took after her father for being a Keeper and Chasers such as Wood were no friends of hers. It didn’t matter that almost all of her family was in Gryffindor, she was fiercely loyal to Ravenclaw and her Quidditch team.

 

“If you don’t mind, can I steal your partner away from you? You can have James instead.” Meghan didn’t wait for an answer and pushed James towards Rose. Albus was taken out of Rose’s hands, he was too shocked to even accept Meghan’s offer.

 

While Rose was slightly grumpy that Wood had interrupted their dance without really asking either of them, Albus seemed happy if not slightly dazed from surprise.

 

“So how is my second favourite cousin today then?” asked James cheerily.

 

“I hate slow dancing,” was the only reply he received.

 

Rose tried leaning her head on his shoulder as she had done with Albus but James jerked away before his head had even touched his jacket.

 

“No, don’t do that. What if she sees and thinks we’re together?” James looked seriously worried.

 

Rose gave him a deadpan look. “Firstly, what is it with you Potter boys and referring to girls I know nothing about? And secondly, if she’s stupid enough to believe you’re dating your own cousin then she’s an idiot and it doesn’t matter if she sees because I won’t let you date her.”

 

“No, you don’t understand. She’s Dominique’s friend from Beauxbatons. And if you obscure your face she’ll be even less likely to recognise you.”

 

“What, and miss my hair?” Rose snorted. “Not likely.”

 

“I think your hair looks beautiful Rosy Posy.”

 

“James Potter, stop trying to distract me from the point. Who is Mary?”

 

“Mary? Who’s Mary?”

 

Rose glared at him. “The girl Albus said you fancied.”

 

A look of understanding came over James’ face, “Oh Marie.” His eyes narrowed. “Albus told you? I knew I shouldn’t have trusted him, that sneaky bastard.”

 

“Oh shut up, you know I would have found out eventually. How comes Lily hasn’t found out yet and set you two up already?”

 

“I didn’t think I’d see her again but she’s here tonight and she looks fantastic. She’s acting like she doesn’t even know me though. I can’t understand it. We got along so well when I went to stay with Dominique.”

 

Rose could tell that this unusual turn of events had left James miserable, so she devised a plan that would work this time. “Right, we’re going to go over there and you’re going to ask her to dance.”

 

“No.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I can’t make it seem like I’m really into her, it’ll ruin it.”

 

Rose slapped her cousin on the arm. “You chauvinistic bastard. You really are heartless. We are going to go over there and you are going to ask her to dance.”

 

“What about you? Who are you going to dance with?”

 

“I can always ask Hugo, he looks bored out of his mind.” Rose was right, her younger brother, still in his boyish cute phase, was slouched at their table, probably bored because his PSP wasn’t working. Their mother had worked wonders in their house with an ‘electronic-friendly’ room full of muggle technology, but the magic here must be interfering.

 

Rose tugged on James’ sleeve and they dodged the other moving couples until they reached Dominique gossiping with her friend.

 

“Uh, hi Dom, can you come to the bathroom and help me… uh, fix my hair please?” Improvised Rose, glad that asking another girl to go to the bathroom with you was a perfectly legitimate excuse.

Unfortunately, Dominique did not look convinced. “Um yeah, sure Rose…” She turned to her friend, “Marie-“

 

Rose interrupted Dominique before the plan could be foiled, “Oh Marie, stay here, James has something to ask you.” She gave James a glare before smiling sweetly at the French girl and taking Dominique’s hand. Marie seemed slightly nervous and had avoided looking at James throughout the entire exchange, focussing on playing with the hem of her dress. Considering it well a fair few inches above her knee, Rose presumed she wasn’t as shy as Albus led her to believe, especially reflecting on the formality of the ball.

 

James was tugging on his tie and shirt nervously, now looking at his shoes because he felt awkward staring at a person determined to ignore his existence.

 

Rose wasn’t keen on the strange behaviour this girl elicited, but there seemed to be more history than she knew so she guided Dominique out of the cluster of chairs and gave James an encouraging smile.

 

Abruptly, for peace of mind, Rose turned around and called, “He came to ask you do dance- just in case he doesn’t have the guts to do it himself.” Feeling satisfied that she had successfully executed one plan of hers, she proceeded to exit the hall, pleased she had an excuse to not dance for at least ten minutes.

 

“Rose, what have you done with your hair?” exclaimed Dominique when they had finally reached the toilets, “It looks like a bird’s nest under here!” Dominique had discovered the underside of Rose’s hair, the bit she hadn’t dared brush in months.

 

“Ow, Dominique!” Rose winced as her cousin tried to tug the bundle of hair apart. “I didn’t actually want you to do my hair, it was just an excuse to give James and Marie some time alone so he could ask her to dance.” She pulled free of Dominique’s grasp and turned around so she could rest on the sink. “And you know I inherited my mum’s hair, not all of us are lucky enough to be part Veela.” Rose scowled at her cousin for her good fortune and looked sadly at the split ends of her own curls.

 

Dominique lent forwards and cupped Rose’s face, “You are beautiful my dear Rose, so much so every man here wants to dance with you.” She pinched Rose’s cheeks playfully, enjoying the scowl that followed.

 

“Why do you think I’m hiding in here, asides from the pretence of leaving James alone?” Rose groaned, “I had to dance with McLaggen earlier, urgh, I’m repulsed just by the thought of it.”

 

“The one in your year? He’s not too bad looking isn’t he?”

 

“No, McLaggen senior, not junior,” Rose shuddered again. ”And if only Alastair was nice, he’s the same type of sleaze as his father. Where Mum finds these blokes I have no idea.”

 

“She could have picked worse, trust me,” said Dominique shaking her head, “Francesca Goyle was introduced to me earlier and the poor girl has the misfortune of being daughter to Gregory and Millicent Goyle. Her parents certainly aren’t a pretty couple.”

 

Rose agreed good naturedly and then they both decided not to dwell on the misfortunes of others.

 

James’ situation was still bothering Rose and it was only his usual nonchalance at dating girls that prevented her from going to check if he was okay.

 

“So what is the deal between James and Marie then, he said he met her while staying with you?”

 

Dominique nodded and joined Rose in her position of leaning against the sink. “They met a few years ago I think. Marie had come to stay at Grand-père and Grand-mère’s house for a couple of weeks in the summer while I was there and you know James came over to stay while he did some training or something.” Dominique shrugged, “I knew something happened but they didn’t seem serious or anything about it, you know what James is like.”

 

Rose nodded sagely, she most definitely did know about James’ antics, the whole of Hogwarts knew.

 

The door opened - it seemed someone wanted to use the facilities for their actual purpose and not a gossiping corner.

 

“Rose, Dominique, what are you two doing in here?” asked Aunt Audrey. There were so many people in the Potter-Weasley clan that the probability of it being one of their family was high. “Rose, your mother has been looking for you everywhere, go and find her this instant before she panics.” Aunt Audrey was the stern type of individual that suited Percy perfectly and her no nonsense tone had Rose sulking out of her hiding place with Dominique following closely behind her. They were in their early twenties now and they still got treated like kids!

 

Luckily, Hermione was near the entrance of the hall, frantically looking for her daughter.

 

Coming up behind her and placing her hands on her mother’s arms, Rose said, “Mum, I’m here, I’m fine.”

 

Hermione turned on her daughter angrily, “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for ten minutes and everyone I asked said that you had left the hall. I was worried.”

 

“Mum, relax,” said Rose, squeezing her mother’s shoulders. “We just went to the loo, uh Dom wanted to try a new hairstyle on me.” The lie worked once so why not again?

 

Hermione brushed some stray curls off Rose’s face, “Yes, I only wanted to find you so that you could meet someone.” Hermione seemed casual enough but Rose knew her mother was out of sorts. This time of year always reminded her of the war; it was hard not to be reminded of the dead on a day that commemorated them. Hermione had a tendency to panic at this time of year.

 

Once, when Rose was eight, Hugo had gone past the bushes in the garden, just out of sight and Hermione was all ready to send out a search party when Ron found him eating an apple under a tree. The war had taught them not to be complacent, a message that Hermione drilled into them as much as Ron did. Auror training taught them the hard way.

 

“I know Mum, I know what it’s like,” said Rose, trying to be reassuring.

 

Hermione’s eyes were glazed over as though in a trance. “You don’t Rosie, not really, and I’m glad you don’t.” She smiled at her daughter and did the annoying thing where mothers adjust your jewellery and dress when it doesn’t need adjusting.

 

Rose tried to squirm out of her mother’s grasp, “Mum, I’m fine, honestly.” She sighed exasperatedly.

 

Hermione gave her a wicked smile, “We have to make sure you’re looking all pretty for your suitors.”

 

Rose groaned and Dominique laughed at Hermione’s teasing. From the stories she had been told, Aunt Hermione was the uptight, rule-enforcer who kept Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron in line. Dominique supposed Uncle Ron must have rubbed off on her.

 

“But seriously Rose, Cormac’s son wanted to dance with you. Let me see if I can find him.” Hermione craned her neck above the crowd but thankfully it was too dense to spot him. Rose tried to sneak away, but her mother’s peripheral vision was to good and grasped Rose’s arm to prevent her from leaving. “You’ll have to dance with him later, keep an eye out for him, won’t you Rose?” Her tone gave no manoeuvrability to decline. Rose knew her precious book was a stake so she glumly nodded and resigned herself to staying in the hall, returning to Dominique’s previous seat to look for James.

 

However, when they reached, the seats were empty and didn’t take long to spot James and Marie dancing a few feet away. Marie had rested her head on James’s chest, her eyes flickering upwards to watch him as he spoke. They were so enraptured in their conversation they were barely moving, hence, their closeness to their starting position.

 

Rose sat down, tired, and rested her head on her hand. “Dom, how long do you think I’ll have to stay here until my mum lets me go?” Now that she was sitting, her feet had a chance to complain to her for choosing heels and her head throbbed from the re-emergence into the loud music. Rose hated events like these where she was expected to remember every single one of her parents’ acquaintances; it was bad enough trying to remember all the branches of the family tree. Luckily her mother had created their own family tree, inspired by the one at the Black ancestral home. It was a beautiful created, hosting the Weasley-Potter clan in its entirety.

 

“Rose?” Dominique poked her cousin in the arm. “Your mum’s calling you again.”

 

Rose lifted her head from its slump to follow Dominique’s pointed finger. Sure enough, her mother was gesturing frantically at her to come over and then changed to pointing in the direction of the dance floor. Rose shook her head and pointed to her feet, trying to indicate that her feet were aching. Hermione shook her head and pointed insistently at a spot on the dance floor. It took Rose a few minutes, but after seeing Alastair McLaggen partner up with a pretty brunette girl she realised what her mother wanted her to do. Rose shrugged apologetically and sat back down, keen to relieve her aching feet. Hopefully Alastair would continue dancing with his current partner until the ball ended so that she could go home as soon as possible and open the creamy pages of her new (technically old) book.

 

Unfortunately, her peace wasn’t to last as another member of her extensive family had come to annoy her. “Hi Rosie Posie,” greeted Teddy as he mock ruffled her hair.

 

Rose ducked and scolded him for his antics, “Teddy!”

 

Dominique was equally if not more annoyed than Rose, but appealed to higher powers. “Tell your husband to keep his paws off my creation, Vic, Rose’s hair has never looked better.”

 

Rose scowled at Dominique for the insult but was glad she had stopped Teddy from messing up her hair. It was the nicest it had looked in a long time and Rose was happy to endure tens of bobby pins for one night if it made her hair look less like pumpkin sick. Rose really had received the worst combination of genes from her parents: her mother’s riotous curls and the famous Weasley ginger hair from her father. Hugo had been exceptionally fortunate and had escaped the redheaded curse and had beautiful brown curls that accentuated the angelic proportions of his face.

 

Hugo, once a baby of the family, had grown into a shy (to others) and irritating (to Rose) young man. Rose hoped he didn’t have a surprise girlfriend as well because she didn’t think she could deal with any more girl issues today. Thankfully, Hugo seemed happy playing cards with Lorcan and Louis; Rose was both envious and relieved that her younger brother could stay young.

 

Teddy had been chatting with Victoire and Dominique but the two sisters had descended into rapid French, leaving Teddy free to hassle Rose for a dance. She stubbornly refused, blaming her tiredness on her feet.

 

Victoire paused in her sisterly catch up, “Please take him off my hands for ten minutes Rose so I can catch up with Dom without him trying to distract me. We haven’t seen each other in ages.” Victoire pleaded with Rose, slapping Teddy’s hands away as they crept around her waist. Teddy, ever incorrigible, firmly planted his hands on her and nuzzled her shoulder, placing a kiss on her neck before he left. Rose felt uncomfortable watching such an intimate display of affection; years of marriage hadn’t removed their honeymoon stage.

 

Teddy held his hand out to Rose like a gentleman, “Come along Rosie my dear, I’d better oblige my wife.”

 

Rose shook her head adamantly.

 

Teddy leaned forward and whispered into her ear, “Your mother is coming this way with a boy.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

 

Rose immediately stopped scowling and allowed Teddy to lift her out of her seat. Once they had begun dancing, Rose realised she didn’t really mind slow dancing at all, it was just the awkward social interaction with people she barely knew that bothered her. Teddy was a skilled and graceful dancer, no doubt because of Victoire’s influence.

 

“So my dear cousin, who was that pretty boy that frightened you into dancing with me?” teased Teddy good naturedly.

 

Rose rolled her eyes, “Urgh, Alastair McLaggen. He’s the son of one of Mum’s friends and we went to Hogwarts together. He’s just as much of a creep as his father was and still is. He tried to grab my bum earlier.”

 

Rose’s indignation caused Teddy’s laughter to trail off nervously.

 

“Rose, are you serious? If you told Harry or Ron you know they’d never stand for that.” He tightened his grip on her back, instinctively wanting to protect his family.

 

“Yes, I know,” she bit her lip nervously, debating on whether telling her short-fused, and most likely drunk by now, father about McLaggen’s wondering hands was the smartest idea. “No, I don’t know. He’s a lecherous old man but he didn’t really do much wrong. I’d rather enjoy dancing with you and never think about him again. I’ll just tell mum to take him off any guest lists in the future and hopefully I’ll never have to deal with him or Alastair again.” She smiled reassuringly and Teddy responded by twirling her around, her ruffled skirt flaring outwards as she span.

 

They danced pleasantly together until Victoire came to reclaim her husband. Rose watched with tender-hearted surrealism at how entranced they were with each other, how they communicated through every medium they had all at once. Rose had never understood before that moment what depth or intensity truly meant. You could paint a wall with the brightest shade of red, but each layer would look no different to the one that preceded it. Teddy and Victoire had red satin bed sheets with scarlet ruffled pillows, and an ambient ruby atmosphere through crimson lampshades. Their touches and words and expressions and body language were all colour coordinated - if it could be called that – so that it all screamed they were in love.

 

Rose had to leave before she became nauseated by the intensity of it all. It was hard to be envious of people she was happy for, but all of a sudden there seemed to be no wallflowers and only couples on the dance floor. Rose was happy with her complicated, muggle-loving, red-headed family, but she became acutely aware of every adoring couple on the dance floor and that twenty-two was not an age she could hide away from any more. Early marriages were ingrained in the older generation and as the daughter of two War Heroes she was a prime catch. Perhaps it would be fulfilling to run a household as her grandmother did. She could always be the type of wife her mother was: bossy, hardworking and caring. That wouldn’t be so bad.

 

“Rose!” Her brother’s shout attracted her attention and she hastily made her way over before Alastair happened to be conveniently free and she managed to catch her mother’s attention.

 

“Hugo, not so loud!” Rose hissed.

 

“Why?” Her brother appeared unperturbed as he continued dealing cards.

 

“Because if Mum finds me she’ll make me dance with Alastair and I don’t want that. What did you call me for anyway?” She took a seat at the table as Hugo huffed and re-dealt the cards.

 

“I wanted you to play cards with us but Scorp’s here now so it doesn’t matter if you don’t play.”

 

Rose hadn’t noticed that to her left Scorpius Malfoy sat. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Scorpius, they used to both be on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team and all, but it had been a few years since she had last seen him and they hadn’t spoken since. Rose wasn’t sure how to greet him, for she was fairly certain that the last time they had properly spoken was at the last post-match party and they had been so drunk he had spent most of the night with his arm around her waist. All Rose could remember from that night was lots of physical contact with her teammates as if to reaffirm that they all won the match together. But that was all a long time ago and if Rose could barely remember their comradeship then she could hardly expect Scorpius to.

 

So she settled for a brief “Hi” and a polite smile as she had done to every other person here who wasn’t family and shuffled through her cards.

 

“Hugo, I’ll only play if you make up some excuse for me if Alastair comes over.” She had ignored Scorpius’ response to her awkward hello and was now hyper aware of him burning holes in the side of her head. She took a sneak peak and was relieved, but slightly disappointed to find that he wasn’t looking anywhere near her. Rose turned back to her own cards, surprised at herself for being self-conscious around Malfoy. They had, after all, lived, worked and played with each other for years. 

 

“Trying to cheat are we Rose?” Scorpius’ voice hummed in her ear, leaning over to her. Rose covered her cards to prevent him from spying and immediately began the defence.

 

“Why Malfoy, I believe you said that merely as a ploy so you could see my cards.” A smug look sat on her face as she protectively covered her hands over her face down cards.

 

Scorpius leaned back so to remove suspicion and Rose was ashamed to say she missed the warmth. One soppy realisation she was alone and she became attached to the first man she saw.

 

“On the contrary, Miss Weasley, I am a master at cheat, as Hugo can tell you, and I could beat you fairly any day.”

 

Hugo reached over the table and punched Scorpius in the arm. “Oi, mate, Rose hasn’t stopped being my sister just because she’s all grown up and pretty now. Stop flirting with her and let’s get on with the game.”

 

“Hugo!” Rose blushed pink. “Stop acting like Dad, I’m a big girl, I can do what I like. And this is hardly flirting, it’s just two old friends catching up.” Old friends, that was one way to describe them. Perhaps not both labels at the same time, but Hugo had no reason to complain as he, not Rose or Albus, was the first one to ask if Scorpius could come over. That was a shocking and awkward conversation.

 

Disregarding Hugo’s comment completely, Rose resumed her conversation with Scorpius. “If you think you can beat me then prove it. If I win, then the loser has to dance with me if McLaggen comes over.”

 

“Fine. But _when_ I win, because I have a better poker face than any of you, then you have to dance with me before Goyle comes over.” Scorpius was smirking as if he was triumphant already but that wasn’t going to stop Rose from trying to beat him.

 

Conditions set, the game commenced.

 

They had only been playing for fifteen minutes when Lorcan spotted the first potential intruder. “Goyle at eleven o’clock, I repeat, Goyle and mother at- oh and your mother Scorpius- at eleven o’clock, rapidly approaching.” The game paused. One of them leaving to act as a diversion would fail and invariably leave the rest open for fodder, as the protection they gained from being involved in the game would be shattered. The table erupted into mutters of strategy.

 

“Oh why did we decided to hide in broad daylight, this was surely the worst idea you’ve had Hugo,” said Lorcan.

 

“You saw what my mum was like when Rose disappeared for two seconds, imagine the uproar if we all were missing. No, it was best to stay here so that we can have some relative peace,” Hugo grumbled back.

 

Scorpius stood up as if to leave their sanctuary.

 

“Good idea mate,” said Louis, “Fend off your mother before she tells us off for being uncivilised.”

 

Rose cut in before Scorpius could reply, “No, don’t be silly, we can’t finish the game without him and if Scorpius gets taken by Goyle then one of you lot will have to rescue me if McLaggen turns up.” All three of them didn’t reply out of fear of volunteering themselves.

 

“Uh oh, speak of the devil…” Louis trailed off. Rose was glad she had her back to the dance floor as it meant she was technically unaware of McLaggen approaching and was consequently free to do this:

 

“I’m claiming my win now Scorpius and yours too.” Leaning on his arm to stand up, she untangled herself from the folds of her dress and the chair coverings, and linked her arm through his. They had turned around just in time to meet the very people they wished to avoid. All three mothers were concealing their dislike for each other by directing it towards their children, or Rose in Millicent Goyle’s case.

 

Just as Rose was thinking of something to say to extract herself and Scorpius from this situation, Alastair decided to speak, “My dear Rose, I would have come sooner if I had seen you unoccupied earlier but oh well, I can have you for my promised dance now.” His words dripped with false charm and cheese; Rose failed to understand how he sincerely thought he could convince anyone to like him when he spoke like that. Next to her, Rose could feel Scorpius tense and wobble in an attempt to not laugh aloud. She discreetly elbowed him and tried to prevent her facial muscles from performing a look of disgust.

 

McLaggen had the annoying habit of making it seem like he was much closer to Rose than he actually was. In Rose’s sixth year, he spread rumours around that he’d got into her pants more than once thanks to his prowess with women, severely pissing off Rose and her overprotective family. The Weasley-Potter clan was not to be messed with. Not only were most of them physically fit from hours of Quidditch playing, but Lily also knew how to cast a mean Bat-Bogey Hex just like her mother. That, combined with a multitude of hexes, jinxes and Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes’ products landed him in the hospital wing for a week. Nobody concluded that he didn’t deserve it.

 

“It seems you are blind as well as moronic McLaggen,” said Scorpius, sounding uncannily like his father. “Rose has neither promised you a dance nor is she available now.” Scorpius tried to extract them from the thong of unwanted people but McLaggen was persistent.

 

“No, Rosie did promise me a dance and I’m sure Hermione here would much rather me dance with Rose than you.” There was a blatant insinuation in his voice, expected perhaps if this were 1997, but this was 2028 and discrimination would not be tolerated, especially on this night.

 

Before Rose or Hermione could come to Scorpius’ defence, Astoria had slapped McLaggen across the face. “Don’t you dare insult my son and insinuate he is beneath you.” Her voice, although low and furious, could still be heard by the crowd drawn by the noise of the slap. “He’s more of a gentleman than you ever will be. I suggest you refrain from crudely hitting on my son’s partner and respect the female species.”

 

Rose was too shocked at hearing Astoria Malfoy defend her to notice that Hugo had joined them as well. He sneaked round the table, tapped McLaggen on the shoulder and kneed him in the groin. Hugo looked very satisfied to see him curled up in pain and discreetly low-fived Scorpius behind his back. “That was for having the nerve to come near my sister after we threatened you not to, you slimy bastard.”

 

McLaggen finally straightened up and attempted to appeal to Hermione, “Can you believe the audacity of these people Hermione?” He used her first name as if they were best friends.

 

It didn’t impress Hermione. “Hugo, can you please elaborate on what you mean?” ordered Hermione. She did not approve of threats but Hugo was surprisingly angry and Rose had danced with everyone else she had asked her to except Cormac’s son.

 

Hugo and Rose shifted on their feet, eyes downcast; how could they explain something of a sexual nature to their mother?

 

“Mrs Weasley, if you’ll allow me to explain,” Scorpius smoothly stepped in, “McLaggen spread some, um, unsavoury rumours about Rose which served to debase her character. We made it clear that such a thing was not to be tolerated.”

 

“You put me in the Hospital Wing you bastard, I could have died!” spat McLaggen angrily.

 

Hermione cut him short; motherhood had made her exceptionally formidable, “Mr McLaggen, I trust my children and the friends they choose a lot more than I trust someone who lies to me telling me they were close friends with my daughter. If you don’t want me to force the truth out of you, here, in front of everyone and then let the rest of my family on you, then leave now and never so much as look at my daughter again.” Hermione’s tone was resolute and he had enough decency to look sheepish as he made to leave. Sensing this may be her only opportunity, Rose untangled herself from Scorpius and called out to McLaggen. He turned around with a half hopeful smile on his face.

 

Rose stamped on his foot as hard as she could with her heel, feeling powerful as she heard the winces all around. “That was for all the times you’ve called me Rosie and for having to put up with all your pathetic drivel.” She flounced her way back to Scorpius as another dig at McLaggen and tried to ignore the fact that she clasped hands with him because she wanted to more than to piss off McLaggen.

 

Scorpius gave her his charming beam and squeezed her hand, seemingly oblivious to how nervous she felt.

 

McLaggen couldn’t do much else but limp away sheepishly, for none there would hesitate to hex him if he even opened his mouth.

 

Now that one unwanted dance partner had been dealt with, the second ill-suitor’s representative stepped forward. “Scorpius dear, now that you’ve protected Miss Weasley’s reputation, you would be obliged to dance with Francesca here.” Mrs Goyle offered her daughter up like the waiters were offering drinks.

 

Despite Mrs Goyle’s demand, Scorpius used his etiquette to turn it into a question, “I am afraid I must decline Mrs Goyle.” He bowed deeply in apology and Rose had to admit for all his ponce, Scorpius was quite charming.

 

“Scorpius,” warned his mother.

 

Scorpius turned to address Astoria, “Mother, I have promised Rose a dance and it would be rude to desert her now.” It seemed even his mother was not immune to his charms for she acquiesced without fuss and then Scorpius was leading Rose to the dance floor.

 

If Rose could think anything in the aftermath of that melodramatic event, it was that Scorpius was a very good dancer. Indeed, it had been a few minutes before she realised the reason it felt effortless was because not only were her feet intact, but Scorpius’ firm hand on her back guided her assertively without too much pressure. His skill seemed effortless and Rose felt slightly ashamed of her own limited dancing practice. Her hand felt sweaty in his and she wriggled it, trying to discreetly loosen his grip so he would be less able to feel her sweaty skin.

 

Scorpius interpreted it as Rose wishing to disengage herself and slid his hand from her grasp. Rose gave him a funny look he couldn’t decipher and so despite not wanting to, he removed his other hand from the small of her back. His hand went to mess up the back of his groomed hairstyle and they stood sheepishly at each other.

 

Rose felt disappointed when Scorpius pulled away. At first she felt mortified that her hand was so sweaty his just slipped out but when he removed his right hand from her back the mortification turned into embarrassment that she assumed he actually wanted to dance with her and not just as an escape from Goyle.

 

It was Scorpius who spoke first, “Sorry, it was presumptuous of me to escort you to the dance floor without you formally accepting.” He gave a short bow. “Thank you for delaying my inevitable dance with Goyle, hopefully it will be short.”

 

Rose, confused by his statement and encouraged by his hesitation to leave, channelled her Gryffindor ancestry, “Scorpius,” she internally winced at how formally his full name sounded but he paused regardless.

 

“Yes Rose?”

 

Rose swallowed heavily, “It wasn’t presumptuous at all, I was the one who claimed my win after all. Care to dance?”

 

Instead of just taking her offered hand, Scorpius took both and entwined them around his neck. He then placed his own hands firmly on her waist, bringing them a lot closer together than they previously had been. Rose would have felt slightly uncomfortable had she not been slightly drunk on champagne and struck with a strong sense of déjà vu.

 

It had been at the aforementioned Ravenclaw post-match party and Scorpius and Rose were entwined in an embrace similar to the one they were in now, both very drunk on smuggled Firewhiskey and post-win euphoria. Rose had changed out of her muddy robes and into a fashionable, specially designed dress by Victoire. It was Ravenclaw blue, printed with bronze snitches and inspired the little joke that Rose was ‘the snitch’ amongst her cousins, a title she resented until she overheard that they meant it in the magical sense of the word and that she was ‘the catch’. At eighteen, she was naïve to her own beauty and ascribed it to being Head Girl. At twenty-three, Rose knew being ‘the catch’ was due to being the daughter of two of the most celebrated war heroes and that their fame instantly made any connections worthwhile.

 

The most noticeable feature of the dress was how _muggle_ it was, in spite of the winged magical object occupying most of the fabric. It was brazenly short and Victoire had taken the liberty of cutting two diamond shaped holes at the waist, a strange muggle fashion that Victoire had discovered somewhere. Initially, Rose was adamant that she would not wear such a revealing thing, after all, she was Head Girl and therefore had a reputation to maintain. Eventually, Victoire and Dominique’s pleading won her over and she proudly modelled Victoire’s creation, much to the jealousy of the younger girls who were infatuated with the latest teenage label.

 

In the pride of winning and her drunken haze, Rose forgot about her revealing dress and danced and partied with most of the Ravenclaw seventh years. At some point in the night, she found herself wrapped around Scorpius, her arms around his neck with his hands on her waist. His thumbs were conveniently hooked in the cut outs of her dress, burning as he moved them in slow circles directly against her skin. His hands were calloused from Quidditch playing, and their roughness against her soft skin heightened Scorpius’ tantalisation.

 

The similarity of the two events evoked a lingering sense of sensuousness, as if there was the same intimacy between the two despite five years of no interaction. Either Scorpius didn’t draw comparisons between the two events or he had simply forgotten it completely- a likelihood considering how much he had to drink – for he was smiling and humming along to the music contentedly. Rose felt her cheeks flush pink at her one-sided sexual tension.

 

“You look hot Rose; do you want a drink?” Scorpius asked.

 

Rose’s cheeks heated to a deeper red at the double entendre and at being caught. “No, no, I’m fine.” She tried to smile reassuringly but Scorpius seemed unconvinced. He looked behind his shoulder, catching sight of something that made him snap back.

 

“What?” questioned Rose.

 

Now it was Scorpius’ turn to look uncomfortable.

 

Rose tried to peer round his shoulder, but he blocked her with much less skill than he had used to direct her earlier.

 

“Don’t look round.”

 

“Why?” This was the demanding Rose that Scorpius was used to; she would never let anyone top her from doing something she wanted to do.

 

“Please don’t tell me you have a secret girl that you fancy and haven’t told me about as well.” She tried again to identify the mystery girl but her heels hadn’t given her enough height to beat Scorpius so her attempt was futile.

 

“What are you talking about Rose? Your dad is eyeing me and he doesn’t look too happy.”

 

When Rose wanted Ron to appear he didn’t and when she didn’t he did. “Oh.” Rose didn’t want to patronise Scorpius by saying that he wasn’t the cause of Ron’s unhappiness, but they both knew that wasn’t the case. It wasn’t that he hated Scorpius per say, it was more the fact that by trying to distance Rose from Scorpius, he had made Rose curiously attracted to him.

 

“Do you remember when we first met?” Scorpius asked abruptly.

 

“Yeah,” replied Rose with a dreamy look on her face, recalling the conversation with her dad on the platform on her first day at Hogwarts. “My dad warned me not to marry you,” she chuckled. No wonder her dad was suspicious to see them dancing together like this. Most of the people she had danced with earlier wanted to marry her.

 

Scorpius’ face went pale, “Marry you? What?”

 

Rose’s eyebrows creased a little, “Oh wait, you weren’t there, well you were, but not properly obviously otherwise you’d remember being there, on the platform, I mean.” The pair broke into giggles at Rose’s convoluted sentence.

 

Rose tipped back her head in recollection, “Okay, let me think properly now, first year…”

 

“You pretty much ignored me for all of first year,” Scorpius cut in.

 

“No I didn’t, we were in the same house, how could I ignore you?”

 

“Rose Weasley,” criticised Scorpius, “Don’t lie to me. We never spoke in first year.”

 

“Yes we did!” interjected Rose, “There was that time when Albus was in the Hospital Wing after he got into a fight with _your_ friends and I had to work with you because you didn’t have a partner because no-“ Rose stopped abruptly before she insulted him.

 

“Because no one wanted to be friends with a Malfoy.” continued Scorpius for her, bitterly. “I know Rose, I know. Don’t stop yourself on my account.” He raked a hand through his hair, messing up the front as much as the back. When he placed his hand back on her waist it was harsher than before, grabbing her flesh rather than gently placing it.

 

“I’m sorry,” said Rose in a small voice, wishing she had taken more care in what she was saying. She got carried away around Scorpius.

 

“Great, you’re sorry.”

 

“Scorpius, would you rather I didn’t say sorry?”

 

“No,” he admitted, “But it doesn’t change anything.”

 

“You can’t change the past. Things are different now anyway. People like you, I like you.”

 

“Yeah, people only started liking me when you started liking me. Whatever Rose Weasley did the world followed like sheep.”

 

“Hugo liked you first!” It was like you had him brainwashed or something! He was all: “Scorpius told me this, Scorpius did that-“ every time he bothered me when I was busy he’d go to you when I said no!”

 

“You’re just jealous Hugo saw me as his older sibling instead of you.”

 

“Hugo is my brother, not yours.” Rose hissed resolutely, pausing for emphasis on each of the words. She was itching to slap him but they were still on the dance floor and she didn’t want to make a scene. Instead, she reached up and grabbed the soft strands close to her fingers and gave a sharp tug.

 

“Ow!” exclaimed Scorpius, rubbing the back of this head. He reached around Rose’s back, his hand blindly searching for a curl to tug in return. Unfortunately for him, Rose’s hair was up in the elegant up do that Dominique had styled earlier.

 

“Ha! Serves you right for being childish,” said Rose.

 

“Me, childish? You’re the one who started it Rosy Posy.”

 

“That’s a childish thing to say, especially name calling.”

 

Scorpius sighed in defeat, “You really are insufferable; you should have been in Slytherin. Why does everyone like you?”

 

“It’s you everyone likes silly,” replied Rose.

 

“Now we’re back in a circle again, we’ve already determined that everybody likes me because you like me.”

 

“No, that’s not true. They like you because you’re… funny and clever and…” It was hard for Rose to find appropriate words to describe him. Scorpius Malfoy wasn’t one of those boys you could sum up in a stereotype.

 

“I’m funny and clever, great Rose, who does that not sum up?” He tapped her on the nose, “Why do you like me Rose?”

 

Rose’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish’s. “Um… The stuff I said before, I don’t know, I just do Scorp, why are you interrogating me like this?”

 

“You think this is interrogating?” He leaned a little closer to her and playfully asked, “What colour underwear are you wearing right now?”

 

Rose flushed bright red, “Scorpius!” she said scandalised, slapping him on his chest.

 

The guilty party leaned away and laughed rambunctiously. “Oh gosh Rose,” he said between gasps, “Your face!”

 

Rose’s embarrassed face had morphed into a frightening scowl. Her intention was to be intimidating but Scorpius was too far gone to pay heed to that. Rose began pounding his chest with her fists. “Not funny Scorp, too soon.”

 

At Rose’s reminder of McLaggen’s guttered mind, Scorpius sobered up and his laughter petered out. “Merlin, Rose, I’m so sorry. But you should have seen your face- it was almost as red as the time I caught you wearing that Torpedo’s t-shirt when you had spent the whole season pretending you hated them.” Scorpius had a smug grin on his face from the memory of it.

 

It had been second year and he had been working late in the common rom on a Charms essay when Rose had stumbled down the stairs half asleep. Scorpius had glanced over at her but they currently weren’t talking so he ignored her and continued with the flow of his essay. After managing to finish the sentence, he realised that it was very unlike Rose to say nothing at all for she was always coming over to argue with him. He glanced over at her again and noticed with euphoric glee that she was wearing an oversized Tornado’s t-shirt – Scorpius’ favourite team and the very team Rose had claimed to hate. Fortunately, Rose appeared to be sleepwalking, for her eyes were closed and she sat down on her favourite armchair without any recognition of there being another person in the room.

 

Scorpius ran up to his dormitory and grabbed the camera off Michael Boot’s beside table, thankful his roommate was an avid photographer. Rose had moved when he returned, now lying on the sofa with her top ruched up to reveal her quaffle spotted pyjama shorts. Scorpius snapped some shots of Rose asleep, revelling in revealing them tomorrow at breakfast. He felt a little guilty leaving her there asleep when she could easily walk somewhere and hurt herself but that was fleeting compared to the glee at the thought of developing the photos.

 

It was two days later by the time Michael gave Scorpius the photos. With a bribe to an older Ravenclaw, the photos had been multiplied and distributed around the Ravenclaw common room and table. Rose’s face when she came down that morning was worth it. Scorpius had a look of smug triumph as he waved the pictures at Rose when she stormed over to him. She was livid. Jabbing her finger into Scorpius’ chest, she tried to talk but her angry rage prevented words from forming, “You, you- You foul-“ She attempted to reach for the photographs instead but Scorpius held them out of reach, moving them from hand to hand.

 

“Malfoy, give them to me now,” she growled out.

 

With a cheeky grin, Scorpius held out the photos to her but tugged them back when Rose went to reach for them. “Aha Rose, do you think I’d give them to you that easily? Admit you’re a Torpedo’s fan and you can have them.” He continued smirking at her, knowing that even if she didn’t give in everybody had already seen the photos.

 

A discreet Tickling Charm gave Rose the advantage she needed to grab the pictures and inspect the damage. She had heard Malfoy had pictures of her but she hadn’t seen any and photos of her asleep were the last thing Rose was expecting.

 

“How- When did you take these?” Her expression was one of bewilderment but it was quickly turning into anger as she noted the location and more importantly what she was wearing.  “It’s not mine, the top, it’s not mine.” Her indifferent denial made it clear she was telling the truth but Scorpius was determined to make her suffer for all her teasing when Tornados lost to Appleby Arrows, her favourite team. It was a shame she didn’t support the Chudley Canons like her father, that way he could tease her about them losing all the time and for only liking them because they matched her hair colour.

 

“You should be more careful what you wear when you sleepwalk Weasley, who knows who could be watching.” A horrified blush spread across her cheeks, taking the comment in a lecherous vein rather than the innocent way in which he meant it. She ripped up the photos and tossed the pieces into the fire, storming off to breakfast without saying another word.

 

Scorpius never understood why she got so angry then, but he was sorry for bringing it up now as the current Rose Weasley seemed just as angry as the past one.

 

“I still don’t know why you stopped talking to me for two months.”

 

Rose stiffened and refused to answer.

 

Scorpius tried again, wanting to restore the light hearted conversation they were having earlier. “If it wasn’t your t-shirt then whose was it?” Team t-shirts were always unisex but it was far too big to be Rose’s which meant it was probably a boy’s. Scorpius didn’t think much of it at the time, but the thought of a young Rose being intimate enough with an older guy  to wear his t-shirt annoyed him (in a brotherly way of course).

 

Rose felt she owed him that explanation at least, it might get him off her back. “It was James’ old one. Aunt Ginny leant me it when I stayed over in the summer.”

 

Scorpius felt an odd sense of relief hearing it was only her cousin’s. It didn’t explain why she got so angry though. “Rose it was just a joke.”

 

“No it wasn’t.” She snapped back. “Everyone in the school saw me practically wearing nothing thanks to your stunt.”

 

Scorpius was taken aback at her words. “Rose what are you talking about? You were wearing clothes remember? I took the picture because of what you were wearing.”

 

“Yes, but I wasn’t wearing enough clothes in those pictures!” It was hard for Rose not to blush in embarrassment. Her sleep shorts were meant for sleeping and remained so for a reason. She was horrified by the amount of bare leg she was showing more than the team she was inadvertently supporting.

 

Scorpius’ face currently mimicked Rose’s horror, trying to control inappropriate thoughts of a thirteen year-old Rose that floated through his brain. “You were wearing shorts and a t-shirt, what’s wrong with that?” He tried to keep his voice steady and even, ignoring the comments made by the hormonal teenage boys in his year when they came across the photos.

 

Rose narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t you dare Scorpius Malfoy, you know as well as I do that those pictures were inappropriate. I can’t believe everyone saw me like that. They must have thought I was some sort of harlot.”

 

That wasn’t quite what people thought, although Scorpius couldn’t lie and say the subject wasn’t the same. “Alright,” he conceded. “But what I don’t get is that girls complain when guys compliment them on the way they look and insist to be covered up but openly gawk at guys when they play Quidditch with no shirt on.”

 

Rose wasn’t one of those girls but she knew that everyone else did it, they just couldn’t help themselves. “It’s different for guys. You can hardly expect women to go around topless.”

 

“But that’s what I mean,” Scorpius pressed, “You have different standards for guys and girls. I appreciate that girls might not want to go around topless, but then guys should have the same courtesy extended to them.” Scorpius was by no means ashamed of his body but he was leaner than most and he didn’t like to be called a ‘scrawny git’ so he kept his Quidditch shirt on as much as possible.

 

“Hmm I suppose,” said Rose, nodding in agreement.

 

Rose never conceded. It was an unspoken rule between them to never back down. Even if they had to argue all night to prove their point they would. Sometimes they enjoyed arguing so much that they’d argue the same point in different ways because then neither would be wrong and they could still argue.

 

_“You are just being prejudiced against Muggles,” said Rose vehemently, slapping her hand on the table. They were in the common room and despite the late hour, still arguing as passionately as they were two hours ago._

_“Rose, don’t you dare use that argument with me, you know how well I got on with your Muggle friends when you met them,” Scorpius argued back._

_“That’s only because you fancied them!” said Rose hotly._

_Scorpius replied, “Don’t change the subject. Magical remedies have been working for thousands more years than this ‘Muggle medicine’ of yours. My argument is one of experience, not prejudice. I don’t see the point of introducing Muggle medicine into the Wizarding World when the herbs and potions we have now work perfectly fine.”_

_“But we don’t know that they do work, we’ve never tested them or tried them before. Muggle medicine is proven by scientific research. They can track the side effects more easily and then adapt the medicine so it works better. It’s an evolving process,” Rose continued to insist. “And it’s a lot more precise than ‘a bunch of nettles’. How unscientific is that?”_

_Scorpius rolled his eyes. “You’re so caught up in this science thing that you’ve forgotten about tradition and experience. Our ancestors wouldn’t have survived illnesses if they had incorrect medication. Just accept that we’re doing fine. And we have a perfectly reasonable system in place at St Mungos. A lot of lives are saved there.”_

_“Well I want to become a Doctor. I’ll be the first Doctor at St Mungos,” announced Rose._

_Scorpius sighed at her. “Rose, you need to be a Healer to work at St Mungos. If you can’t cure magical problems then you’re useless there.”_

_Rose didn’t like being called useless. “But people still get hurt the Muggle way. What if Muggle weaponry got introduced into the magical world?”_

_And so it went on. Long nights in the common room, sitting at_ their _table while everyone else had long gone to bed or to find a quieter place to work. Scorpius and Rose were known for being infinitely loud in their arguments and pestering others when they needed support in their argument. They would never back down to each other._

 

Scorpius was contemplating this unusual behaviour from Rose. “This is a new side to you.”

 

“I guess I’ve changed,” she replied. “I’ve learnt to choose my battles. Not everyone is a pushover like you.” She gave him a friendly nudge to show she was teasing. “And besides, I agree. Equality is paramount.”

 

“Will you go to work at the Ministry like your mum and do some law reforms then?” He was asking politely now, following the decorum he applied to everyone else in this room. Rose was no longer the argumentative discussion partner he knew. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised she had changed, but it was still a loss to find her again and realise she wasn’t the same.

 

“No, silly. I want to be a Healer, remember? I’m training at the moment so it shouldn’t be too long until I get there, only a few more years.” As she smiled, she looked happy and content with her life. She was on track to what she wanted to do and as long as she stood her ground, she would get what she wanted from life.

 

The Rose he was dancing with tonight wasn’t _his_ Rose anymore, but she had grown into a beautiful, exciting young woman who was her own Rose. Scorpius wasn’t sure he’d ever like this new Rose as much as the old Rose if he met her for the first time today, but in his head, her memory was layered with previous Roses that made the three dimensional Rose Weasley in front of him infinitely more colourful than anyone new he would meet.  

 

Rose Weasley: Ravenclaw Quidditch Keeper, former Head Girl, future Healer and first Doctor of St Mungos, daughter, and friend.

 

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This is my first ScoRose and AO3 piece so it's doubly exciting. This started as a short idea and then turned into a 10,000+ word one-shot that must be the longest continuous (sort of) scene I’ve ever written. I'm not too sure about the ending but writing this got me through my exams so I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. Scorpius/Rose are really so adorable.


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